


Behind the Front

by kasuchans



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasuchans/pseuds/kasuchans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MCR was invited to the cabin, and the two frontmen bond over being just that — fronts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Front

**Author's Note:**

>  [](http://behindthec.livejournal.com/profile)[behindthec](http://behindthec.livejournal.com/)'s PCCF has ruined me for vacations, because every time I see an image of a lake with a dock, even more so if sepia-toned, I'm gonna picture Panic!'s cabin. This is no exception.

Gerard sits at the end of the dock, exhaling carcinogens into the night. It's not that he doesn't enjoy being at the cabin — quite the opposite, in fact, it's fucking insane. It's just that he needs a break. From the noise, from the people, from the pillow fight going on back inside. From everything.

He thinks about Frank — _his Frank_ , he tells himself. He can say that now. Out loud.

Because he has been saying it. Forever and ever. Every song, every word, every note, had Frank written all over it, written into it. All those people who said he was the frontman, the creative mastermind, the inspiration for the music? Yeah, they were only one-third right.

He hears the far-off creak of the back door, given away by the accompanying increase in volume of the laughter and squealing — okay, Mikey should not squeal. Ever. Footsteps pad down the path to the lake, and he'd be unable to guess who if it weren't for the fact that they're clad in a pair of White Rabbit slippers, gold pocketwatch and all.

Brendon sits down next to him, leaning his head onto Gerard's shoulder. "You up to anything interesting?"

"Just thinking."

"Okay." They sit in silence like that for a bit, heads touching, deep in thought, before Brendon speaks again. "About what?"

"My music." Suddenly, all Gerard wants to do is talk. To admit that everything is inspired by someone else, and that every interview has been a lie. "Like, even though I'm the frontman, I'm not the real creator behind it. It's pretty much all inspired by or influenced by someone else."

"Frank?" he asks, turning towards Gerard. Of course Brendon would get it. He's like that himself.

"Yeah," he responds, exhaling more smoke into the early summer sky. "Most of your songs are about Ryan's life, right?"

"Well, in a different way; they're written _by_ Ryan, so they're what his life was like, for him." He shrugs, saying, "I just sing the words," before smirking and continuing, "but I don't know what they mean."

Gerard laughs — giggles, really — before sighing. "Oh, well, it's weird. It's like, is it my music, or his."

Brendon stands up then, looking at Gerard, before leaning down and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It's your music. _Together_. And that's what matters. Now, I need to get back inside before your boyfriend smothers mine with a pillow."

After a moment, Gerard follows, the taste of Pixy Stix still lingering on his lips.


End file.
